Shadow Land : A L4D2 Fanfiction
by shankbby
Summary: All alone in the city, Holly Lancaster is fighting for her life. Jockeys jump her from every corner, Witches chase her down streets and into hiding, and zombies just plain annoy her. But, after a close call, she meets four new survivors...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"BWAHAHAHA!"

The laughter made me jump and my heart skip a beat. A Jockey.

Frankly, Jockeys were just annoying. Their laughter was reminiscent of the Joker. They also could jump like Jesse Owens. It scared me.

"God," I muttered through gritted teeth, the almost-empty box of ammo in between my teeth while I jammed the last rounds into my plain Jane pump-action shotgun.

The maniac laughter grew closer and closer, making my neck hairs stiffen and needles spike my skin. I had killed a fair amount of these things before, how could I get so scared right now?

Probably because I had been so careless to spill Boomer Bile all over myself while running from a whole horde.

"Oh Jesus."

It was one zombie, then four, then ten. Twenty and counting.

I barely had enough bullets for fifteen. Maybe tell them to get in line and blast off some headshots?

_Yeah, right._

A zombie dashed up to me, grabbing my arm as its teeth hungrily clipped together, going in for a bite. I elbowed its sorry face and watched it fall backwards and break its own neck. Zombies were just downright retarded.

They had no brains, _duh_.

Taking no more chances, I maneuvered my way up onto a fairly large storage container, a decent distance from the ground and to where only fugly Jockeys could reach me.

"BWAHAHAHA!"

I braced myself for the heart-stopping grab of the Jockey, mounting me and riding me like I was some unicorn on a Merry-Go-Round. But there was nothing, only the hiss and snarl of the ravenous undead below me. Suddenly, a creeping, cold feeling washed over me as I wasted a couple of corpses.

"Ohohoho," the dainty voice cried.

A Witch.

What the hell was wrong with the world? I wanted to slam my face into a brick wall.

As the horde dwindled in numbers less than seven, I finished them off, creeping down from the container and silently making my way around the many other storage containers and random items, such as: dirty mattresses, blown-over lawn chairs, a barbeque that was overturned with ashes everywhere, garbage cans, candy wrappers, and trash. They all littered the abandon storage unit.

As I turned the corner, peeking around the metal container first, it came onto me.

"OH SHIT-"

The Jockey had found me, its crazy laughter shattering my eardrums and its breath coming cold and erratic against my neck as it rode me, tossing me to the ground and thrashing against me. I had dropped my shotgun in this process, mentally cursing myself.

"Get _off_ me!" I shouted as I punched it square in the face, puss and blood smearing my already nasty fingers.

The wind shifted, and the smell of deceased filled my nostrils: Another horde.

I fought for the shotgun, fingertips brushing the cold steel of its barrel achingly numerous times as the Jockey drained my strength from me, cackling and bouncing off of me.

"Got it."

The barrel became one with my hand as I grasped it, and I spun it around swiftly and shot the Jockey's head off.

Its body fell lifelessly to the ground, the head making a dull thud as it fell alongside the carcass.

I brushed my dirty, bloody hands on my jeans. The horde came within the next minute.

"Crap," I muttered. "I only have a few shells left."

I was tackled from the rear, head hitting the hard concrete hard, zombies spinning around me. I guess I startled the witch, because I heard this loud screech and before I knew it she jumped on me, claws digging into my skin like knives.

The last thing I heard (and saw) was four people, mobbing their way towards me, shooting undead left and right. I remembered the face of a man, his white and blue hat washed pale by the moon. He had a grin on his face as he said something that sounded far off:

"_Looks like she's a little out of it, eh Coach?"_


	2. Chapter 1 : Bacon, Eggs, and Ammo

Okay, here is the first chapter of **Shadow Land**_!_

I hope you guys enjoy. And to all of those who fav'd this, I thank you too_!_

**CHAPTER 1: Bacon, Eggs, and Ammo**

I awoke to the sound of distant sizzling and the smell of bacon.

"Ugh…" I mumbled while rubbing my forehead with my palm and clenching my eyes shut. What a dream…

There was a quiet murmur of voices in another room. I was thinking _I can't believe I overslept. Mom must be done with breakfast by now…_

The room I was in was definitely not my room. I was in random pajamas too…

"Uh," I quietly mumbled, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and rubbing my face. I was clad in pajama shorts, mid-thigh and black, with a matching camisole.

I walked into the other room, seeing four unfamiliar faces. I was a bit frightened.

"Sorry if we woke you," the girl said, tending to sizzling bacon.

Two men were seated at the table, and another was off on the opposite side of the kitchen. "My name's Rochelle," she said, smiling warmly.

"Name's Ellis," the one guy in the white and blue hat said. He had stubble and grayish-blue eyes. He grinned.

"My name's Coach," the big black man said, nodding once.

The man on the other side of the room - white jacket, blue shirt and khaki slacks - glanced up at me. He looked tired. "Nick."

I nodded; they all seemed to be waiting silently for my introduction. "My name's Holly." I straightened up, brushing my shirt off. "Holly Lancaster."

They all smiled gently, all but Nick. I took a seat - hesitantly, at that - at the kitchen table. It was old and wooden, with a bunch of nicks and gashes in them. Some of the gashes were names, like _Beth_ or _Chuck_. Some of the gashes were messages or warnings: _No life here! Get out!_ or _Zombies everywhere! I couldn't find you, Jenny! Head North plz._

I was snapped out of my reading trance when Rochelle set a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of me. I grabbed a fork that was on a dirty napkin to my right, and stabbed a piece of egg. They were bland without any cheese or pepper.

"So," Coach started. "What were you doing out there alone?"

It was then I knew this wasn't a dream.

I scratched the corner of my mouth then said, "Out there?"

They all stared at me like some crazy person. But in a more… _nice_ way. Is there even a nice way to look at someone who seems crazy?

Ellis nodded then took a bite of bacon.

I took a forkful of egg then spoke. "I was on my way to the swamp on the outskirts of town. Had some family that was there, they got hold of me through my cell. Last thing I heard from them was that they got my dad…"

I felt teary-eyed. At this point I knew my dad was dead, or worse – one of _them._

"I'm sorry," Rochelle said gently.

I shook my head. "Don't be. You aren't one of those _things_." the word 'things' felt dry and bitter in my mouth. Zombies. I've only dreamt of those nightmarish creatures. It was… what my mom would say "Very unrealistic, Holly."

I sighed jaggedly, propping my elbow on the table and resting my head in my hand, staring out through the barred windows. It was like some prison cell in here.

"How did you guys get me out alive?" I asked.

Rochelle smirked. "It took us a few arms and legs, but we prevailed."

I smiled lightly, wondering if I drained their stocks, wondering if I ruined their plans, their food rations.

"Sure glad we found ya, that's for sure." Ellis said. He had a Southern twang in his voice. I liked that.

"Yeah," Coach said, finishing his plate. "Sure glad!"

I wiped my mouth with my hands (the dirty napkin not so promising), then excused myself, walking back into the other room and sitting down on the bed. It looked as if I hadn't been the only one sharing it.

Rochelle walked in, running a hand through her dark hair. "I dressed you, don't worry. None of the boys got a free show."

I laughed halfheartedly, running a hand over the sheets.

"We share beds, since there are only two beds per suite and we need the warmth." she said. "None of us have bedbugs."

It looked as if she and Nick shared a bed, and that means either Coach or Ellis shared a bed with me…

"You and I shared a bed." Rochelle said, almost as if reading my thoughts. I felt somewhat relieved.

My lips formed a taught line as I raised my eyebrows, nodding.

"Your clothes have been washed, they're right there," she pointed to the side of my bed. "We don't usually stay in one place for very long, since we're trying to get out of this city."

I nodded, stripping down and changing into my jeans and T-shirt. Light-wash jeans, skinny cut with a forest green long sleeve button-up and a black wife beater. I had plain white slip on Vans that had since been stained and caked with blood and dirt.

I slung my holster over my shoulder and put it on like a backpack, the straps of black leather and metal. I then slipped on my hip holster and strapped my two pistols in, then my shotgun. I felt complete, but I was clean out of ammo.

"Uh… ammo?" I inquired, turning towards the girl.

Rochelle nodded then led me into another room, where there were first aid packs and a big mound of ammunition. It was as if I had some hunger or lust in my eyes when I saw the pile of ammo for my guns.

I quickly walked towards the mound, squatted down then started loading. I had quickly filled my two pistols, then my shotgun, stuffing extra rounds into my pockets.

"Ready," I said. Rochelle nodded and ran out of the room. There were big bangs and moans from the other side of a big steel door, complete with a turning wheel.

I ran out of the room, too, unsure if I was ready to face these things again.

As I turned the corner, I ran into Ellis. And when I say ran into, I mean I almost knocked the poor guy over. "Easy, there!" He yelped.

"Sorry," I apologized, hunting for something to say.

I quickly shuffled out of his way, accidentally inhaling the scent of him as he passed. It was a mix of cologne, musk, and diesel. Normally I'd hold my breath when someone walked by me.

Rochelle sent me a look; a look that said, "It'd be best if you didn't meddle in a time like this."

If there was even a look for something like that. But I knew what she was thinking.


	3. Chapter 2 : Ellis, Not Elle

Sorry if this took forever! I was very busy, plus a case of the writer's block came to me. I'll post chapters as often as I can.

Note that I'm not going to stick extremely close to the actual gameplay, but go through the campaigns and their sections in order, with similar events as the gameplay.

Enjoy!

**CHAPTER 2: Ellis, Not Elle**

I felt my lungs burn for a break after ten minutes of pure running, the zombies a lot faster than we gave them credit for.

"Guys, the mall's up ahead. C'mon just keep running." Rochelle panted, bashing a zombie with the butt of her shotgun. It gargled then fell over.

"I'm almost out of ammo," Nick said, grunting in frustration.

I ran up to the mall door - the back entrance, to be exact - and flung it open, as the crew charged inside. I caught a whiff of Ellis as he ran through the door and I felt my stomach twist into a knot.

"Reloading," Coach said, and I heard the click-click of his bullets sliding into place in his shotgun.

We all reloaded, except for Nick. He was out of juice.

"You can have one of my pistols," I said to Nick, grabbing one of the pistols that were strapped to either side of my hips. He nodded and took it from me, careful not to touch my skin. Was he afraid of me?

"Thanks," he said.

"Anytime," I mumbled, reaching to my back and gripping the barrel of my shotgun, positioning it in my hands.

We then darted up the staircase, panting and huffing. There were moans and screeches from below us, and I was the one in the back. God, this world had gone to hell.

"You have your walkie-talkie, Elle?" Coach asked.

"Don't call me that," Ellis groaned, the Southern twang in his voice. "And yeah, I do."

"Good. Rochelle, Nick, and I are going to go look for an exit. Take Holly and go find med-packs. If you guys get in trouble, hit me up."

Ellis nodded and grinned. Rochelle waved a quick goodbye as she turned and started bolting down the hall left as Ellis and I took off right. He glanced at me and grinned.

"What?" I asked, taking in a quick breath. I had little stamina.

"Nothin'." He said, cocking his shotgun and taking the lead. I just rolled my eyes and followed.

We slowed, and I heard the shuffle of feet and faint moans.

He took the right side of the door, and I took the left. The bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling created little light, and I could barely see anything.

Ellis looked at me, then mouthed, "One… two… three."

We filed into the room, and I instantly reached for the light on the end of my gun, pitch darkness enveloping me. Bodies yelped and charged for me. I felt something grab my arm and heard the sharp clip of teeth. Yanking myself free, I followed the light that my gun emanated. Ellis was twenty feet ahead, grabbing a med-pack and strapping it to his back. I guessed I was the backup.

"C'mon Holly!" Ellis ordered, and I shoved my way through the room, avoiding moist cardboard boxes and blood-thirsty zombies.

I turned and shot a walking corpse that was tailgating me in the face. It fell to the ground lifelessly then made a hollow clunk as its skull hit the ground.

I could barely see in the light, but Ellis smirked at me then said, "Good job, kid."

The corner of my mouth curled into a courteous grin.

"Where to?" He asked, the hallway quiet and zombie-free.

"I have no clue." I replied, a tone of frustration in my voice. "You should know."

Ellis raised both eyebrows then pursed his lips. "True, true."

We slowed to a cautious walk then rounded a corner. We were going to chit-chat until a room allowed came upon us.

"So where you from?" Ellis asked.

"I lived in Pooler for a while then came to visit my aunt and uncle here." I sighed. "But right after I got settled, this damned zombie situation came up and the next thing I knew my whole family had scattered throughout Georgia."

Ellis nodded.

"What about you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Lived in Savannah my whole life. Never thought somethin' like this would happen, ya know?" I kept looking at him intently. "Well, all of my family seemed to disappear after zombies came. I been lookin' for 'em every time we all searched the city." He rubbed his chin then scratched the back of his neck. "Hopefully we all get out of this alive."

I nodded, completely agreeing.

We both turned another corner, only to run into five zombies. They all turned their heads, hissing then charging. They were easily taken care of, and we found a new room. _Right on,_ I thought.

Five med-packs. Just our luck.

"Hey, Ellis," the walkie-talkie spoke through static.

Ellis holstered his shotgun, retrieved the walkie-talkie from his belt and clicked the receiver button. "Hey, Coach. What ya' need?"

Coach sighed heavily on the other end. "We found an exit. But it's all the way down there. You better be fixin' on gettin' over here, there's a shit-load of zombies headin' your way."

"That's a big 10-4, buddy! We'll be there soon."

Ellis strapped the walkie-talkie back in his belt, turned, and looked at me.

"So we're in for it?" I asked, leaning against the wall off to his left.

"Not if you're ready." He smiled and un-holstered his shotgun.

* * *

We were halfway there; so far, no zombies. Where were the zombies Coach had warned us of?

"Hey," I said quietly. It was eerily silent, the soft cracks and clinks of worn fuses and wires.

"Yeah?" Ellis said. He turned to look at me, and his features were dimly lit by the dull light from above.

"How long will it be 'til we get to the exit?"

Ellis shrugged, and continued walking. He took the lead.

Zombies were annoying. They were like the friend in high school that was stuck to your ass - they never went away.

"You hear that?" I asked.

Ellis nodded, motioning his head for me to follow. I crept carefully behind him, almost too close. Being by myself the last few weeks had been paranoia, and now that I had people, they were an addiction.

My eyes widened.

A Charger.

"Ellis," I said, trying to keep quiet. I saw the figure at the end of the hall, back turned to us, huffing.

"I know," he whispered, glancing back at me.

I felt my insides somersault. Chargers were just… odd.

The Charger sniffed, grunted, then turned around and stared at us. It was two seconds before it started careening down the hall towards us.

"Fuck!" I shrieked, my voice soaring a couple of octaves. "_Run!_"

"No, shoot!" Ellis said, cocking his shotgun and letting bullets rip. The Charger did not falter; only kept charging. The metal shelves in the hall tumbled over as the Charger brushed past them.

"I-I'm almost out of bullets," I stammered, shotgun in my hands as I let my last bullets go free into the Charger's head.

The beast snarled. Its (good) arm came up and thrashed down, sending Ellis back into the wall.

"Ellis!" I yelped, looking frantically back between the Charger and Ellis. His face was scrunched up in momentary pain, as he rubbing the back of his head. His white and blue hat was on the ground in front of him.

"Shoot the damn thing!" Ellis grunted, grabbing his shotgun.

"I'm out!" I retorted, giving him a death glare. He only grinned and cocked his shotgun.

I groaned, tossing my shotgun to the ground and reaching for my pistol. It was close to useless, considering pistol bullets weren't very powerful against beasts like this.

Clicking the hammer back and outstretching my arms, I let a full clip loose into the Charger's head. It made a weird grunt noise then fell over.

"Woo," I cheered quietly, strapping my pistol back into my hip holster. Only one clip left.

"Good job, kid!" Ellis grinned.

"Thanks." I said somewhat blandly. Dealing with these infected fucks damn near 24/7 took a toll on your physical health as well as your emotional and mental.

We scanned the messy hall for anything. I found a bottle of Boomer Bile, - my past experiences telling me _not_ to pick it up - a few lone pistol shells that wouldn't fit my model, a box of shotgun shells, and a jar of hot-sauce.

"Ready?" Ellis asked.

I rose up, securing everything in my waist holster. "Yeah, I'm ready."

* * *

"Hey Coach, where are you?" I asked over the walkie-talkie, after countless minutes of pointless arguing with Ellis whether we should have picked the jar of hot-sauce up or not.

"Hey, Holls. We're on the first floor, on the far end." Coach said in his husky voice. "We've found something useful."

"Like?" I asked.

"A car."

Ellis' face lit up. "A car?"

Coach laughed from the other end. "Yes, Ellis."

I gave the walkie-talkie to Ellis. "Hey, we're almost at the center of the mall, Coach. Want us to meet you there?"

"Yeah, Elle."

"Don't call me that," Ellis said, scratching the back of his neck. "What ever happened to the escape plan?"

"The car is a better option. I saw gas cans scattered everywhere when we ran by on the second floor." Coach said.

"I'll be damned!" Ellis piped up, excited.

"So meet us here - soon."

"Roger that!" Ellis said. His face contrasted from happy and excited to questioning. "Say, what did you mean earlier that zombies were on their way for us?"

"You didn't run into a few hordes?"

Ellis said, "No siree."

"Oh…"

There was a long silence.

I grabbed the walkie-talkie out of Ellis' hands, his skin warm and calloused, and spoke to Coach. "Hey Coach, we'll be there soon. Try not to get killed."

Coach chuckled. "Already trying."

I handed the walkie-talkie back to Ellis. He raised an eyebrow at me. I just nodded, smirking.

"You're different than I thought you'd be," Ellis said.

"Aw shucks," I said sickeningly sweetly in a Southern accent just like his own. "Thank you!"

He shook his head and fixed his cap, and in a swift second we were on our way to meet the others.


	4. Chapter 3 : Jimmy Gibbs and Gas Cans

Hi everyone~

Sorry if this chapter seems... blah. I have had writer's block for a while. So this was all I could muster up for now. :C I'll be sure the next one is a lot better!

**CHAPTER 3: Jimmy Gibbs and Gas Cans**

Coach, Rochelle, Nick, Ellis, and I all trailed into the main part of the mall, the lights dark and dimmed. Too bad they weren't working right, it'd make everything a lot less creepy.

"Good Lord Almighty!" Ellis chirped. "Jimmy-Gibbs Junior's car!"

I chuckled quietly to myself as he flew to the car, peering inside and enjoying every second of it. Then he started to ramble on about how he and Keith used to… I don't even remember. He was talking too fast.

Coach, Nick, and Rochelle were listening intently as I went off to scavenge around the place. Nick had ran off in the far corner to grab a can of gas, Rochelle went upstairs, and Coach ran directly opposite of Nick. Three gas cans out of eight, Coach had said from a distance as I strapped the med-packs to my back.

I picked up a sewing needle, looking at it strangely. It was way too small for it to be a needle for stitches…

Shrugging lightly, I dropped it to the ground, as it made a _tink tink_ noise.

If I ever had children, the first story I'd tell them is about me fighting zombies. They'd probably think of it as some make-believe, but I'd tell them, "It was real."

"Got some chest paddles over here," Ellis said from afar.

Then, there was that smell.

"Oh, God," I grimaced, covering my nose with my shirt sleeve.

The crew all made a disgusted noise, and then they started charging.

Zombies were filtering out of doors, from the staircases, second and third floors, falling from the sky like dead birds.

"Jesus Christ!" I shouted, as one grabbed my arm. It scared the shit out of me. "Get… off…"

I elbowed it in the face, teeth scraping my arm. I shuddered then quickly sighed in relief, for the teeth did not break the skin.

"Holls!" Coach called, and I stumbled my way over there, tripping over cardboard boxes and splaying out on the floor. My hands were raw, rubbing against the cold tile and removing a layer of skin.

Ellis ran to me, helping me up. "Thanks," I said in a rush, pulling the pump on my shotgun and killing a surrounding circle of undead.

Coach and Rochelle had found two cans of gas, but there were six cans more to find. Ugh.

Nick had gotten two, so it was up to Ellis and I to find the last two.

We were running up the stairs, clearing a path of corpses in front of us when I tripped. A zombie had jumped and grabbed my leg, sending me off balance and over the rails.

I screamed - a terrifying, shrill noise.

Ellis caught my hand before I fell to my death, thank God. But he was being bombarded with zombies.

"Fuck," I panted, my palms sweating.

"C'mon Holly," he huffed, pulling me up. My arm felt like it was being wretched from its socket.

He pulled me over the edge, and two zombies tackled me. I swung at them with my shotgun then blasted two holes into their skulls. All the while, I was grinning.

"Yes," I said, running up to my red gas can. Ellis found his, and we both smiled at each other, shooting the zombies coming at us as we ran down the stairs.

Coach, Nick, Rochelle, and I blasted away at the undead, while Ellis filled the car. "Almost done, there?" I asked, kicking a corpse in the teeth.

"Almost…" he said through gritted teeth, rather frustrated.

I turned back around to be met by a large horde. We were almost out of bullets, and I had dropped a baseball bat that I had found on the third floor.

"Shit," I said under my breath, trying to headshot all of the undead flailing their way towards us. Rochelle groaned.

"I'm all out," she whined, as was Nick.

Coach and I were the only ones left with a few bullets.

"Hop in!" Ellis yelled, throwing the last empty gas can across the way, downing a few zombies in its path.

We all jumped in, Ellis revving the engine, totally jonesing on the sound.

"Let's go!" he hollered, slamming his foot to the floor and shifting into first.

* * *

"I can't believe you wrecked it," I muttered.

"Same," Coach, Nick, and Rochelle all said in unison.

Ellis groaned. "Not my fault those damn walls aren't made of paper or some shit!"

Ellis had tried to drive through a heavy-duty chain link fence, only to bust the car's engine up and send us fifty yards off course.

I felt lightheaded. Once we hit the fence, my head smacked against the passenger seat window. Everyone else got out alive with minor scrapes and bruises. I think I had a concussion.

"Holls, you ain't lookin' so good," Coach said in his low voice. I sighed deeply, closing my eyes as we walked down the highway, dead cars and bodies littered here and there as we trekked over and on top of them.

"I-I'm fine," I sputtered, rubbing my forehead. Nick looked at me with concern, and Rochelle stared at me, wondering what was going to become of me.

"Holly!" Ellis shouted, as I felt my body tumble to the asphalt.

My head hit the ground - hard - and I felt a sudden, strong sense of déjà vu.

The last thing I saw was that white and blue hat closing the distance between it and me. Everything went black.


	5. Chapter 4 : Tunnel of Love

Hey everyone! Long time no update? D: I'm sorry, writer's block has been getting the best of me, but a good friend helped me get through it. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE x]

Anyways, enjoy~

**CHAPTER 4: Tunnel of Love**

Déjà vu.

I awoke in a bed - yet, I wouldn't call it a _bed_ - it was far from that. Much more like a weakened couch… in a trailer.

Moaning, rubbing the back of my head where the goose egg resided, I looked around the room, lying perfectly still. I barely moved and the couch squeaked shrilly.

"Holly."

My head turned out of reflex towards the noise, as Coach approached me. "Holly, you feelin' okay?"

I nodded, grunting as I rose up. He patted my shoulder gently, as if I was some precious Porcelain doll.

…I was, in a way.

"Where's everyone?" I asked. Coach shrugged with his lips in a tight line. "Out in the carnival somewhere."

"Carnival?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

"We're at the carnival."

Instantly, I sprang up - hurting myself in the process - and ran to a window, any window. I looked out to see zombies walking around, standing still and screeching at birds.

"Jesus…" I muttered.

"Holls," Coach started, making me turn around to stare at him. I realized there was a deep red liquid beginning to drip down my neck from my injury.

I groaned, feeling light-headed. Coach walked to the door, grabbing his shot-gun. Obviously I was supposed to follow.

"But, my head-"

"There is a first-aid kit on the table." he said, standing by the door and waiting for me.

I trotted over to the table, undoing the locks and flipping it open, shaking a can of antibiotic spray up and coating the back of my head. Greasy hair was a pet-peeve of mine, but walking around attracting zombies with a bleeding skull was a death wish.

"Let's go," I said, closing the case and grabbing the fully-loaded shotgun as I leapt out the door behind Coach.

We were ready to fire, moving with the stealth and agility of special op forces. Zombies kept their distance, unaware of our presence. I was beginning to consider that the zombies here at the carnival were dumber than the ones in the mall.

In the distance I saw the lanky shape of a man in a white and blue hat. _Ellis,_ I thought. Much to my dismay, I was beginning to grow some feelings for that guy.

"Hey, guys!" Rochelle said, running up to us. Nick was in step behind her. The smell of the horde was in the air, they were close.

"We gotta' get moving," I said, rushing the crew onwards. The snarls of infected grew audible in our ears as they rounded the corner, charging for us.

We were running, turning corners sharply and skidding across the pavement.

"Ellis, Holly, you guys go find a safe house. We're gonna' go get ammo." Rochelle said, as Nick, Coach, and herself split from us. Instantly, we were standing there alone, the smell of the dead left far behind us in the muggy Savannah dusk.

We looked around the place, scavenging for the next safe house. It was always equipped with one bed, one kitchen, one bathroom, and a shit-load of ammunition.

"So," I breathed as we jogged. Ellis looked at me, quirking an eyebrow. I didn't know what to say, I just wanted to get more acquainted with this Southern boy.

"So," he smirked.

I blushed lightly, turning my head to the side so he couldn't see. The saffron glow of the low sun in the sky stained our skin.

"This way," he said, tugging on my arm as we ran into the Tunnel of Love.

My heart thudded against my ribs; once a river, now a dried-up mess of squashed Solo cups and garbage.

"Why here?" I asked, as we turned down a tunnel. There was a dove boat that was derailed on its side. We both passed it in silence then he spoke.

"Because," he started, peeking around a corner carefully then darting down it. "We need to find a safe house."

"No, really?" I said sarcastically.

* * *

"God - Ellis, can we stop for a second?" I panted. We were weaving in and out of the Tunnel of Love for hours. Nothing was in there besides an untouchable bottle of Boomer Bile.

"No." The word came out dry.

"Well I'm stopping," I said, halting and hunching over, hands on my knees practically wheezing.

"Ugh," he mumbled, stopping as well and watching me hack my lungs up.

"Well, if I remember correctly," I started, thinking about when I used to frequent this particular carnival. "There is a safe house coming up."

Ellis nodded for me to follow as he started to walk again. I straightened up and follwed.


	6. Chapter 5: What the Tank

Hey guys! Sorry for the long delay. Since it's been such a long time since I've updated, I had two chapters ready for you, my special treat! :]

Enjoy~

**CHAPTER 5: What the Tank**

We were sitting on a bench, the night air hanging around us like steam after a hot shower. I was hunched over, elbows on my knees, brown hair in my face. You had no idea how much I wanted society back.

I sighed deeply, partially forgetting Ellis - who sat beside me, twiddling his thumbs.

"Holls we need to go find that safe house," Ellis said, his voice startling in the quiet stillness of night. I cringed slightly. He raised an eyebrow at me.

I looked at him with my head cocked to the side and said, "You just scared me a little."

Ellis smiled lightly and patted my back. I looked off to my right and rose slowly. There were still zombies around - of that I was positive - but at the moment, we'd just have to go find a place to chill out. There was no safe house anywhere close, none that we could find at least. I looked at Ellis and helped him up.

"Let's go," I said quietly, looking into his soft blue eyes. He nodded. I smiled at him and pulled him along, weaving through the food court tables. After a while of running and dodging the zombie hotspots we reached a long, open clearing of pavement - a perfect battlefield for the undead.

"This doesn't look so good," I spoke softly to myself, eyes scanning the distance.

It was like someone rang the dinner bell or something. A Tank came crashing over shacks and roaring, the nauseating scent of rotting flesh filling my nostrils. I glanced at Ellis quickly before reaching for my shotgun. He grabbed my arm and was running at what seemed Mach 5.

The booming roars and yells of the Tank were becoming louder and louder as he closed in on us, careening into benches and tables as Ellis and I bolted through the outside dining areas.

"We're sandwiched," I groaned. The Tank wasn't very far behind.

I looked at the big container blocking our path, and Ellis was jumpy. "Fuck, do somethin'!" He shrieked.

I climbed atop the container, and pulled Ellis up with me. The Tank slammed against it, sending us toppling over the other side and landing in a jumbled heap of each other's limbs on the other side. We quickly separated ourselves and saw a shadow casting over our heads - the container was tipping over. We both leapt forwards, quickly dodging an unfortunate death.

But we were in plain sight of the Tank.

It charged at us, and we scrambled to our feet, running. I swear I could hear the dramatic music playing in the background of all this.

"Right! _Take a right_!" I shouted, diving right and turning behind a shack which was a Dart Throw booth.

"You been doin' them 5ks or somethin'?" he panted, struggling to keep up with my steadily quick pace. I shook my head, our rapid breaths a cacophony of pure fear.

"How do we shake him?" I asked, running out of options fast, the Tank still hot on our asses.

Ellis grunted, pulling me left into a building and racing up the stairs, hoping they were small enough that the Tank couldn't fit through. His hopes prevailed as we reached the top of the building, but zombies quickly caught on and began to filter onto the rooftop, dashing mercilessly at us.

"Damn this," I hissed, smacking my pistol as a bullet lodged in the barrel. Just as the satisfying click sounded from my gun, an undead fuck lunged toward me, teeth yellow with blood stains as it seemed to grin malevolently at me. Quickly reacting, I pulled the trigger as it came within inches of me. It screeched as its skull splintered into its brains, a rotten mush lightly coating my skin which seemed to crawl at the slimy explosion.

"Ellis, they just keep coming, and I need ammo."

"Follow me," Ellis ordered and I speedily chased after him. I began to wonder if _he_ was the one running 5ks. Through a maze of stairs and trying to keep my balance going down the flights two steps at a time, I had a hard time keeping an eye on him. He was about ten strides ahead of me.

The air smelt like dust, and as we descended into a darker abyss, it began to smell like damp cloth.

"Ellis…?" I started quietly, the ambient sound of dripping water echoing around us. I turned my head left and right, trying to scan the area in the complete darkness.

I suddenly felt a pair of hands clamp over my mouth, and I screamed so hard I thought my throat sizzled into nothing. "Easy," Ellis cooed, hands sliding down my neck and resting on my shoulders. I felt his warm breath on my neck. It was comforting.

"You scared the fucking _shit_ out of me, Elle." I breathed, turning slightly. I still couldn't see anything. A light flashed in my face in a quick second, blinding me momentarily. Ellis was smirking in the background, light held up to his cheek and pointing at me. "Keep the flashlight low, if you hear anythin' like moans or splashes 'n shit other than us, quickly scan the waterway. If the light goes out on us, we'll have to feel along the walls."

I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd make us do some Indiana Jones type shit. I just wanted to meet up with Rochelle and Nick and Coach. I knew Ellis would do his damnedest protect me, but if he died… Well, I'd be left on my own.

We started down the waterway, softly splashing our way around. Hopefully this wasn't going to be long. From the pang in my gut (although, it might've just been hunger), I felt we were close to the safe house.

"How long is this thing?" I whispered.

"Prolly a little more and we be outside again, just in another section of the carnival."

I blinked a few times and kept my eyes on the path ahead of me. Then I heard a moan.

"Ellis, did you just moan?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed as I lowered my gun a tad.

"Negatory." he replied.

I felt a cold shiver race up my spine as I quickly scanned the waterway like he told me earlier. _Holy fuck_, I thought in a sudden rush. There was a whole horde of infected _right behind us_, trudging at a snail's pace.

"Shit!" I hissed as I reached for his arm, and before I could react they started snarling. Ellis swatted me on my shoulder and we were running as fast as we could without tripping and falling into the stagnant water.

I wasted all of my ammunition by the time we reached the surface.


	7. Chapter 6 : Pretty Boy Blues

**Author's Note:** Agghhhhh fghfgh. I'm so sorry this chapter is late as hell. I've had serious writer's block, as always. My knack for fanfics has gone down terribly... :/ Please enjoy this chapter. R&R

**CHAPTER 6: Pretty Boy Blues**

Rochelle ran into the bathroom, locking the door and slamming her back against it. She panted heavily.

"Man…"

She checked each stall for any corpses, finding none. Walking up to the sink and peering into a mirror, she looked at herself in silent terror. _Look like shit_, she thought, rubbing her cheeks and smoothing her hair down.

From everything other than the deep bite in her wrist that was bleeding like a motherfucker, she was fine. Perfectly healthy - as a horse, one would say.

Rochelle let out a slow breath, unraveling the soggy bandage from her wounded wrist. When she tossed the wrap into a nearby garbage can she winced. The sight - and smell - of the bite was unbearable.

Sad thing was that she knew she only had a few more hours and she'd be one of the undead.

_The walls are closing in,_ she thought in a rush of panic, adrenaline coursing through her veins and pulsing painfully in her temples. Her eyes darted around the room, eyesight sharpening tenfold.

_The hell…?_

Letting loose a moan like if she were shivering from the cold, her skin color faded into a dull caramel and her irises shifted to a pale cerulean.

* * *

Nick trolled the streets of Savannah. He'd lost Rochelle and Coach. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Oh joy."

_No zombies in the vicinity,_ he thought dryly, taking a moment to attempt to gather his thoughts that had scattered horribly ever since the zombie apocalypse began.

And - being the smart, suave man he is - he knew better than to scream. It'd lure the blood-hungry undead that were lurking around in the shadows.

Not realizing where he was walking, he stepped into a puddle of human (he pondered the thought) entrails. They squished upon impact of his foot. Raising his precious foot in the air, taking another horrible, squishy step into guts, he cursed and jumped back into a parking meter, eliciting a loud clang and rumble of coins from within the device.

"_Fuck,_" Nick growled, clenching his fists and rubbing his shoulder. _Damn that parking meter_, Nick thought.

Moans of the undead sounded from yards away, and Nick felt his skin crawl. _Run, fast, now, **go**._

His russet-colored pretty boy loafers took off on the sidewalk, so fast they were bound to leave skid marks. The wild screeching grew closer.

"Son of a bitch-"

Nick crashed into a random store, stumbling through the aisles and picking a staircase to climb. _Hopefully those fucks don't follow me_, he thought as he began to think about his dire need for ammunition.

He slammed the door and locked it, jumping a few feet back and staring at the slab of metal that divided him from the ravenous undead. Nick rubbed the side of his face, feeling stubble. _Time to shave,_ he thought absently.

A frenzy of earsplitting pangs and pounds sounded from the other side of the door. Nick mentally groaned, trying to keep quiet to see if they'd go away. After a few minutes of pure banging, the noise stopped. All he heard was silence.

Silence was nice.

He turned around and looked at the room he was standing in: it had three windows, big and easy to jump out of… onto the street… from about twenty feet in the air. He doubted he could land it and not break his legs.

Nick swore he could hear the dramatic music begin to play.

Loud rumbling footsteps were heard from the bottom of the stairs, and he knew what was coming for him. "A God damned _Tank_?" he growled, fingering the trigger on his magnum as he weighed his options.

_Shoot the fat fuck or jump out the window. Shoot the fat fuck or jump out the window…_

With one immediate punch to the door, the Tank busted through, sending Nick on his back a few feet. He cursed out loud as there was no point in being quiet at that moment.

"Fuck fuck _fuck._"

He scrambled to his feet and chose the closest window. He leapt forward and shielded his face, a blind fall to the ground. Nick opened his eyes right before his body made contact with the concrete, and somersaulted into a stop. His back and ass felt the lovely ache of free-falling.

"Remind me to never do that again," he told himself, rising painfully and dashing down the street, the roars of the Tank in the background sending his neck hairs stiff.


End file.
